


sick day

by zigsexual (anythingbutloud)



Series: fluff prompts [2]
Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: College AU, F/M, Fluff Prompts, M/M, bonus riley wearing maxwell's clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26382664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutloud/pseuds/zigsexual
Summary: it’s finals week and drake has fallen ill.
Relationships: Liam/Drake Walker, Maxwell Beaumont/Main Character (The Royal Romance)
Series: fluff prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917382
Kudos: 5





	sick day

**Author's Note:**

> this is for the fluff prompts list #9 ‘nursing the sick one’ + #8 ‘wearing each other’s clothes’ + college au + christmas like jfc morgan pick ONE okay!!!! i will admit i slacked on the christmas and also threw maxwell/mc in there because why not. additionally the college aus have no real canon because half of the time they’re driam and half the time they’re dralivia and sometimes drake likes mc so just roll with it, ok

“Drake has the flu,” Riley announces one morning, descending from the staircase in a rather spectacular fashion, wearing only leggings and Maxwell’s fraternity letters. Ordinarily, Liam wouldn’t pay much attention to the sound of her voice, being that she’s practically moved into the house they all share, but what she says does pique his interest.

“The flu?” He looks up from the book he’s reading. “Are you sure?”

Riley shrugs, the hoodie falling off her slim frame until one pale shoulder is visible at the head. “I’m not a bio major or anything, but he sure looks like the flu.”

Liam stands up, tucking his book under his arm and crossing over to the stairs himself. “I’ll check on him.”

“Are you studying right now?” Riley scoffs, hitting Liam on the shoulder with the arm of the sweatshirt, her fingers barely visible at the sleeve. “It’s Saturday morning, Liam.”

“I have a final on Monday.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

He hurries up the stairs towards the main hallway, tentatively knocking on the door to Drake’s room. When there’s no answer, he pushes the door open slowly, calling out, “Hey, Riley said you might be —”

He stops short at the sight in front of him: Drake has wrapped himself in his comforter like a cocoon, a box of tissues at one side and a bottle of Nyquil at the other. He looks up when Liam enters, the circles under his eyes darker than usual, his hair a mess.

“Oh,” Liam stifles a laugh, and Drake says, “It’s not the flu.”

He sounds congested — hell, he looks congested — and Liam lingers in the doorway, careful not to get too close while he assesses the situation. “What is it then?”

“I don’t know,” Drake frowns. “The black death? The bubonic plague?”

“Those are the same thing.”

Drake sighs. “You really are such a nerd.”

Liam smiles, venturing into the room slowly, watching as Drake burrows back into his makeshift hideaway. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m cold,” Drake huffs, pulling the comforter tighter around him. “I already took all the blankets I could find.”

“I probably have extra in my room, I can check,” Liam hazards a gentle touch against his forehead with the back of his hand. Drake leans in against it, closing his eyes.

“You’re warm,” he says, “Don’t leave yet.”

“You’re warm,” Liam replies, although he does leave his hand there for a few seconds more. “You probably have a fever. Let me grab the ibuprofen too. Are you hungry?”

“No, I’m cold,” Drake repeats, one arm emerging from beneath the cocoon to grab at Liam’s wrist. “And you’re warm. Stay here.”

“Don’t you want more blankets?”

“Make Riley get them. God knows she should put in some work with all the time she spends here.” He sniffs loudly, blinking up at Liam with bleary eyes. “Can you pass me the tissues?”

Liam sits down next to him on the bed, sliding the tissue box towards his exposed hand. Drake blows his nose, tossing the tissue halfheartedly at the trash can across the room. It lands about a foot shy. He sighs, sinking back into the bed. “I’m a mouthbreather, Liam.”

“I have decongestant spray with the ibuprofen, but you won’t let me get it.”

Drake lifts up one edge of the comforter and drapes it over Liam, pulling him in against his side and tucking his head in against Liam’s shoulder. His skin is hot to the touch, clearly crawling with some virus, but Liam doesn’t try to move him away. Instead, he glances down at Drake, raising one eyebrow. “Is that my sweater?”

“Yeah,” Drake says, “It was the warmest thing I could find.”

“So you just contaminated it?”

Drake lifts his head to look at him, their faces only a few inches apart. “I’m contaminating you right now, but you don’t seem to have a problem with that.”

“It’s cashmere.”

“Oh my god.”

Liam breaks into a smile. “I’m kidding. I don’t mind. Actually, I have some in the closet that are probably warmer, if you want.”

“Stop trying to escape,” Drake leans back in against Liam’s shoulder. “I’m sick and this is what I want.”

“You’re quite demanding.”

“I’m sick,” Drake whines, sniffling again for emphasis. He reaches behind Liam to pull the comforter tighter in against them, but instead of drawing his arm back when he’s done, he leaves it there, wrapped around Liam’s back.

Liam ducks his head, smiling to himself.

The door opens again, both of their heads snapping up at the intrusion, but it’s just Maxwell. He rolls his eyes when he sees them, leaning back to yell down the stairs, “Riley, they’re fine! They’re just flirting!” before he turns back to then and nods in the same general direction. “She wanted me to make sure it wasn’t ebola.”

“Technically no one is sure of that yet,” Drake grumbles. “Can you call the CDC?”

“No,” Maxwell answers, “But I can drop off some soup. Do you have requests?”

Drake frowns for a minute before finally relenting. “… Chicken noodle.”

“Campbell’s or Progresso?”

“Campbell’s, you heathen. Why would you even ask that?”

“Sorry I gave you options,” Maxwell says indignantly, before letting out a tiny shriek when two handless sleeves wrap around him from behind, Riley’s face emerging seconds later as she hooks her chin over his shoulder. She holds on tight, giggling even when he swats at her.

“I brought some meds,” she says, pressing a kiss against his cheek before finally relenting, stepping back to pull a few bottles out of her front pocket and lobbing them over to the bed. “Max and I are getting brunch, so you’re on your own now. But we’ll come back with soup. Do you need anything else before we go?” She eyes the two of them, pursing her lips. “A cold washcloth? Throat spray? Maybe a condom?”

Drake reaches out for one of the pill bottles, throwing it back at her face. She screams, ducking behind Maxwell. “You’re supposed to be sick!”

“Yeah, not deaf,” Drake frowns at her. “Fuck off Riley.”

Riley pokes her head up again, still using Maxwell as a shield. “Did you just want an excuse to cuddle with Liam? You know you can always just ask him, right? It’s not like — hey, what the fuck, stop throwing those!”

“Get out!” Drake yells after her as she flees, Maxwell following close at her heels. He breaks into a cough, sinking back in against Liam as their footsteps fall away down the stairs, Riley laughing hysterically. Liam notices the way Drake’s arm finds itself tucked back around his waist again.

“I really am sick,” Drake mumbles. Liam kisses the top of his head, gentle as possible.

“I know. You’re way too hot.”

“Thanks.”

“Shut up,” Liam smiles, reaching to pull the comforter tighter, Drake shifting closer against him. “You know what I meant.”

Drake’s fingers curve around Liam’s side, tentative and soft. In response, Liam wraps his own arm across Drake’s shoulders.

“Maybe I did want to cuddle with you, though,” Drake says quietly.

Liam turns his head away, smiling as his cheeks flush from something other than the heat. “Well, next time, you don’t need to get the bubonic plague to do that.”

“Noted.” He can feel Drake smiling too against his shoulder. “Just the black death?”

“They’re the same thing, Drake.”

Drake leans up and kisses Liam’s cheek. “Here, you have it too. Then maybe you won’t be so cavalier about my suffering.”

“There are better ways to spread your illness than that,” Liam laughs, turning to look at him, their noses brushing.

“Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”


End file.
